


I am the same, I’m the same, I’m trying to change

by turnitintolove



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Delia puts up with a lot, F/F, Patsy has a lot of feelings but pretends to have none, Some Humor, Some angst, Trixie knows all, vague description of violence, who doesn't love vintage lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 15:29:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15270543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnitintolove/pseuds/turnitintolove
Summary: It comes to a head again outside in the cool night air.  “To you, you fool.”  Delia says to a stunned Patsy and she realizes that Patsy never expected to let someone love her enough for words like marriage and forever.





	I am the same, I’m the same, I’m trying to change

**Author's Note:**

> I joined this fandom super duper late and I love it a lot. I also pretended I had no feelings when I indeed had a lot. The alternate title for this is "Dangerous to Dream" because I am a giant nerd (it's a new song for Frozen on Broadway), it makes sense if you listen to it. Actual title comes from the song "Third Eye" by Florence + the Machine.

As soon as Patsy pulls her hand away Delia feels the absence as if she’d plunged her hand in ice water. She doesn’t pretend to hide the hurt and she knows Patsy immediately feels guilty, can see it in the way she won’t meet Delia’s eyes. It isn’t that Delia doesn’t understand, she does, but sometimes she wishes Patsy would relax, would allow herself to feel things in the moment. But there it is, the shift of her eyes, the rounding of her shoulders, the way she pulls her cup closer to keep it from being snatched away.

Delia sighs.

It comes to a head again outside in the cool night air. “To you, you fool.” Delia says to a stunned Patsy and she realizes that Patsy never expected to let someone love her enough for words like _marriage_ and _forever_.

* * *

The walk back to Nonnatus is a blur for Patsy. It isn’t until Trixie says her name four times that she snaps back to the present.

“Patience Mount! Where is your mind this evening?” She’s sitting at the vanity, the pot of cold cream in her hand as she watches Patsy move like some sort of haunted spirit.

“So sorry, miles away.” Patsy sits on the edge of her bed and toes off her shoes, kicking them to the side before standing to right them; everything in its place.

Trixie eyes her through the mirror, watches Patsy study her fingers before she balls them into fists and shakes them out. “Rough night?”

Patsy sinks back down onto her bed, shoulders slumped, it makes her look small in a way Trixie has never seen; even after Patsy has woken from nightmares she doesn’t speak about. “I just had, I had a, well, a disagreement I suppose. With Delia.”

The unspoken words that hang between them linger only long enough for Trixie to sigh and spin on her seat. She’s seen the way they look at each other, if she were being honest she’d ask the rest of the Nonnatus House how they haven’t seen it themselves. Delia, she knows has a harder time concealing her emotions, her _true self,_ as it were. But Patsy, she’s as practiced at it as Trixie, better even. “About?”

Patsy shakes her head, her hair coming loose so the fine hairs around her temple catch the light like a burning halo, “Nothing. It was silly. We haven’t had a disagreement since before I left the London.” And it hadn’t been much a disagreement so much as Patsy being too stubborn.

_“You’re miserable, Pats.”_

_“I am not.” Patsy plucked at the violet sleeve, making it peak before she flattened it again._

_Delia rolled her eyes, “You would be happier where you could be in charge.”_

_“You’re not wrong about that. I think the matron hates me, so do the new nurses.” Patsy slumped against the headboard of Delia’s bed, watching her unzip the horrid uniform they both hated._

_“They don’t like you because you scowl at everyone all the time.”_

_Patsy wanted to be offended but she knew Delia was right. “I don’t scowl at_ everyone _,” a pause, then, “I don’t scowl at you.”_

_Delia’s laugh made Patsy jump, her eyebrows coming together, “You’re doing it right now.” Delia’s eyes softened as she sat at Patsy’s feet, her hand resting under the hem of Pasty’s uniform. “Why won’t you give it a chance? You could always come back.”_

_It took a few moments but Patsy mumbled her response, when she realized Delia hadn’t heard her she looked up at her, “Because I don’t want to lose you.”_

_Delia smiled and climbed to sit on Patsy’s lap, “I’m not so easy to lose Nurse Mount.”_

“Patsy?” Trixie rolls her eyes after calling her name for the fourth time, again.

“Sorry.”

“Am I really so boring?”

Patsy smiles, one of those tight smiles that masked the emotions and thoughts flurrying behind her eyes. “Of course not Trix, you know I couldn’t survive a convent without your sinful charm.” Trixie watches her light a cigarette, though her hand is limp like she doesn’t really want to hold it.

“Patsy,” Trixie tries softy, sitting on her own bed, “you would tell me if something were wrong?”

“Whatever makes you think something is wrong?” Patsy shifts on her bed, her eyes rising to look just over Trixie’s left shoulder.

Trixie bites back a sigh, she wishes this once that she and Patsy weren’t so well practiced at hiding behind their well-crafted masks. If only she could tell Patsy she knows; she knows and would proudly guard their secret. “Well –“

“She wants to, to, to-,” Patsy stops to think, “go to a new, a new _bookshop_.” Patsy says rather lamely. “And it’s on the other side of town.”

“A _bookshop_.” Trixie says slowly as she rolls her eyes at the lie, “On the other side of town.”

Patsy closes her eyes and blows out a cloud of smoke, “Yes?”

“And you don’t want to go to this bookshop?” Trixie asks, her mouth popping around _‘bookshop’._

“They only really sell the one book.” Her voice trails off.

Trixie wants to laugh, she can see practically see Patsy inventing the lie as it comes out of her mouth with each exhale of smoke, her eyebrows pinched together. “Well, she is your very best _friend_ Patsy.” She stares over at her and plucks the cigarette out of Patsy’s hand to tap the growing ash off. “Maybe going to this new, _bookshop_ , isn’t such a terrible thing to do.”

Patsy’s only response is to hum, it isn’t until she tries to bring her cigarette to her lips that she realizes Trixie has started to smoke it. Trixie never gets a straight answer from her.

It turns out to be a restless night for Patsy which means much of the same for Trixie. She lies awake and listens to Patsy shift and mumble in her sleep. Most of her exhausted mumbles are hard to understand, though Trixie can make out that Patsy is telling someone to hide. Her sister, she thinks, telling her to hide from the monsters Patsy herself never seems to be able to hide from. Or maybe this time it’s Delia, reminding her that they must hide to keep safe. Heaven knows Patsy plays her cards so close to her chest no one knows she’s even playing; a youth made up of loss, Trixie thinks, will do that to someone.

* * *

 

When Patsy wake the next morning it’s too sore muscles and eyes that can’t hide how tired she feels. It’s always been like this, on nights where her nightmares take hold; her body aches in ways it only remembers. The hidden scars on her back and feet feel almost fresh until she looks over to see Trixie’s empty bed. Yes, she’s in her room at Nonnatus. The pain in her scars dull only to be replaced by a tightness in her chest.

Delia.

Hadn’t Patsy been through enough? Hadn’t she survived enough to live her life in peace with the woman she loves? She sits on the edge of her bed and stares at Trixie’s half made bed then decides to tuck the corners in. The weak autumn light outside does nothing to help Patsy’s mood as she shuffles around her shared room. She wishes, not for the first time, that she shared the room with Delia.

Delia had said she wanted to marry her.

Patsy had stood frozen to the ground, not daring to dream of a life she would never have. It was fine for Delia to say how much easier it would be to hide her feelings away and marry a man; but Patsy had spent so many years hiding that she wasn’t willing to give up the one person who made her happy. She wouldn’t, she _couldn’t_.

Her decision happens somewhere between standing and returning from scrubbing her face. Yes, she would prove to Delia, in her own way, that she wanted forever.

It’s the only time she’s ever taken money from the account her father deposits his money into. It’s suitable, she thinks, that his money will prove to someone else what has never been able to do for her. The money feels heavy in its envelope, but she knows it will be replaced by something much heavier.

As she steps into the jewelers Patsy wishes she could give Delia her mother’s ring, but it’s just another thing that has been lost to her forever. The cases are bright, the diamonds glittering against the white satin.

“May I help you?” The clerk, a man who might be her father’s age asks.

Patsy smiles, she’s been practicing her story all morning, “Yes, I’ve been sent by my brother to pick out a ring. Lovely man, but a bit useless when it comes to these things.”

The man smiles, “You would not be the first sister to do such a favor and I dare say you won’t be the last.”

“I should hope not, or what would the dear ladies of London do when their fiancés walk around like that poor fellow?” Patsy points to a young man who looks terrified.

The man chuckles and looks down at the case between them, “Something large? Something simple?”

Patsy thinks of Delia, “Something elegant, but practical. She’s a nurse.”

He nods and pulls a few selections to present, “Elegant but not too much.”

Patsy looks at the line of rings in front of her, “That one. It’s perfect.”

“If only all of our customers were so efficient!”

Once Patsy has the ring in her bag she stops by another shop to purchase a chain. A ring on Delia’s finger would only invite unwanted questions, a ring that can be hidden close to her heart is for the two of them. Patsy slowly makes her way towards the Nurse’s Home, knowing Delia is still working and will be for several hours. It doesn’t stop her from sneaking in. Her restless energy leads her to cleaning the small room.

When she hears the door open, Patsy is sat on Delia’s bed holding one of their few photos together.

“Pats?” Delia stands by the corner of the bed.

“Did I ever tell you about the two women who worked in the hospital hut?” Patsy still holds the photo, she hasn’t turned to look at Delia.

“No. No, I don’t think so.” She’s still rooted to the floor.

“It was after my mother and, well it was after I was moved to a different camp. I used to sit outside the hut and watch people come in and hoping they would leave with a bandage or a little more color in their cheeks. They let me sleep on one of the mats in the corner and started to teach me about what they were doing.”

“Pats –”

“I saw them. One night, I saw them kissing. I didn’t understand, but I could see they loved each other, I could see them holding each other up to get through each day.” Patsy puts the photo down on the table beside Delia’s bed. “They were caught, or turned in, I never found out.”

“What happened to them?” Delia asks quietly.

Patsy shrugs one shoulder, but it’s sharp, “They were hanged.”

Delia takes a deep breath and moves to sit next to Patsy and takes her hand and feels the warmed metal in Patsy’s palm. “Patsy?”

“I’m sorry Delia, I’m so sorry.” Patsy cries, “I didn’t want to lose you and I’m sorry this is the story I told you instead of how much I love you.”

“Patsy?” Delia tilts Patsy’s head up so she can rest her palm against her cheek, her thumb wiping at the tears that fall. “Patsy, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

“I would marry you, I would marry you if I could,” she opens her palm to show Delia the ring on its chain. She hears Delia’s gasp, “I wish it were my mother’s, but –”

“You bloody fool,” Delia kisses her, “you beautiful, bloody fool.”

Patsy rests her forehead against Delia’s, “Would that be a yes?”

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

“I’m asking you to let me love you for the rest of our lives,” Patsy says softly.

“We both know you’ll do whatever you want,” Delia smiles though nods when Patsy whines, “of course. My beautiful, full hearted, fool.”

**Author's Note:**

> For regular nonsense: jellysnack.tumblr.com


End file.
